


Rascals at play

by Shamashe



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Sweet, Tender - Freeform, childlike, deepening relationships, flirt, playful, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamashe/pseuds/Shamashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has an unexpected play date with his nephews - and with Phryne.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>My smiling thanks to Rithebard, who wrote the sweet, “Two Fugitives.”  It was my original inspiration for this stowwy.  All of you, who so generously wrote that you liked my lighter approach, were also my inspiration to continue doing so.  Then Rakish Angle, that purveyor of provocative persuasion, made an irresistible comment about Jack being “...both kind and childlike with children.”  I’ve wanted to write another, softer, Jack/Phryne piece, but with that comment, Tommy and Jimmy sprang into my head and I just couldn’t resist!  I don’t own this, but I loved writing it!  I even wrangled MY sister into editing bits of it.  So here’s my second attempt at fic.  I hope you like it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rascals at play

**Author's Note:**

> Water based “Acrylic” paint (commonly known as “Latex”) wasn’t developed until 1934. Australian “house paint” would have been oil based, taken off with turpentine or kerosene. I am referencing common “Whitewash” here, which would have been quite thin and easily washed off with water. 
> 
> Also, I took some liberty using the term “crafty” which, while there were craftswomen then, is a term more commonly applied to modern crafting. Any other interpretations - well, that’s up to them! It worked with the flirt!

“Hello,” Jack said, as he picked up the telephone. 

“Oh, Johnny, hello. Thank God you’re there!” Jack made a face. Only his sister would still call him by that name!

“Are you ok? Is there a problem?” he asked. 

“Yes, and a big one!” she said, her words tumbling out quickly. “A water pipe broke and the floor of the kitchen is flooding! The plumber’s on his way, but the boys don’t have pre-school today and right now, they think that splashing around in the water is a big game. But the water is going just everywhere! It’s leaking under the door and getting under the rugs.... And I’m trying to get the house ready for Christmas, but now I have to deal with this flood and I can’t do that when they’re playing in it!” 

She stopped and took a breath, then continued on in a somewhat less frantic tone. “I’m sorry Johnny, but I have to get them out of here and I don’t know what to do with them until this plumbing gets fixed!” 

“And what do you want me to do?” Jack asked with a smirk – having some idea of what would follow. 

“I really do hate to intrude on your day off, but absolutely no one else is available! Could you mind the boys for me for a while, just until this crisis is over? Please, Johnny?”

Jack smiled, thinking of his two young nephews. “Yes, of course, I will,” he said. “I’ll be right over to collect them. I just need to clean up my hands first.”

“What happened to your hands Johnny?” 

“Nothing, I was painting, that’s all. See you soon!”

Jack hung up and walked over to the wall in the kitchen, where he’d just finished patching and painting a crack with some basecoat. He checked to see if it was dry yet. He could just imagine his two rambunctious little nephews running into it and he certainly didn’t want them getting paint all over themselves! 

He was getting ready for Christmas himself and had been putting away paint and supplies when the phone rang. He’d been thinking that he might give his extra paint to a neighbor, but if his nephews were coming over, perhaps he could pull out some tarps and let them use the paint to play. “Risky, Jack,” he thought, “But it just might be fun for them!” 

He smiled. He hadn’t had nearly enough time with them lately and he found himself looking forward to it as he changed clothes. “If I get them some overalls,” he said, talking to himself, “I might be able to keep them from getting too messy and further upsetting my sister.” 

“Come on then, boys,” Jack said, as he knelt down and gathered them into a quick hug. Looking back and forth between them, he asked, “Now which one of you would like a treat?” 

“I do! I do!” They said in unison, jumping up and down. “Oh Unka Jack, can we? Pweese?” 

Jack started to chuckle and looked up at his sister to see her nod, just as both boys did too. “Its like looking at three identical faces,” she thought.

“I’ll call you when this is done, Johnny,” she said as she gave Jack a hug. “And thank you for doing this, I hope they aren’t too much trouble.” 

She turned to the boys, smiling, “And you rascals be good and do what your Uncle Jack tells you, yes?” “Yes, Mommy,” they said in unison, bobbing their heads.

Then Tommy elbowed his little brother and whispered, “Did you hear that, Jimmy, she called us waskels!” With big, wide eyes, Jimmy nodded up and down and said, “Uh Huh – Tommy, what’s a waskel?” 

Jack looked at his two nephews and laughed.

On the way back from picking them up, Jack stopped at a local mercantile he frequented. He knew they sold some children’s items there. “G’day, Mr. Keen, these two fine young lads are my nephews and they are going to be my special helpers today. I heard that you might have painter’s outfits just right for them.”

Mr. Keen smiled at the boys and went and got two extra-small canvas overalls and held them up. “Right, with the legs rolled up a bit, that should just about do it. Whadda ya think?” 

Tommy and Jimmy rather solemnly looked themselves over in a mirror and then looked at each other and then at Mr. Keen. Using his best “talk to grown ups voice” Tommy said, “Yes, pweese sir, we’d like to have em if we may?” He looked at Jack, who was trying to keep from laughing out loud and said with a big smile, “We got to have the wight uniforms to help you Unka Jack, cause we gowing to be pweesemen someday, just like you!” 

Jack was smiling broadly and looked at Mr. Keen, who was wiping his eyes in his mirth. But in a semi-serious voice Mr. Keen said, “Yes, well lads and very fine officers you will be too! I can always tell! You take care of these now and help your Uncle Jack and learn how to do things right and grow big and strong so you can become fine police officers just like him.” Both boys nodded. 

Still smiling, Jack bought the overalls and said, “G’day, Mr. Keen. And thank you, I’m sure the boys benefitted from your wisdom.” He shook hands and led the boys outside. 

Tommy elbowed Jimmy again and said, “See Jimmy, he said we’d be big and stwong pweesemen just like Unka Jack!” “Uh Huh, said little Jimmy, nodding - Tommy, what’s stwong mean?” 

Jack smiled all the way home. “What adorable boys they are,” he thought. His heart swelled with love for his nephews. Yes, he was looking forward to spending the day with them, even though he knew he might be in over his head! “Almost home, boys,” he said. 

As they dashed into Jack’s bungalow, he said, “Come on then, I’ve got special biscuits and milk here, just for rascals like you!” 

When they had settled down to their treats, Jack said, “Tommy, I’m going to trust you and Jimmy to look after things here and not spill a drop, while I go get some things out of the other room. I’ll be right down the hall, ok?” 

“Ok, Unka Jack, we won’t mess. Mommy don’t like messes too.”

A few minutes later Jack peeked back into the kitchen and saw that Tommy was wiping his brother’s chin and then wiping the table so there were no crumbs on it. Jack smiled as he entered and Tommy said, “See, no cwumbs!” holding up his hands. Jimmy held up his hands too, with a big smile on his face. “Well done boys, very well done!” Jack reached out and rumpled their hair and gave them each a hug. 

“And now, are you ready to help me?” “Yes, Unka Jack,” they said together. “What we do?” 

“Well, to begin with,” Jack said, holding up the miniature overalls, “You two can go put these on over your clothes so you don’t get dirty, but take your jumpers off first. Do you need my help getting dressed?” “No Unka Jack, we help each other, cause we be big and stwong.” Little Jimmy said that last part with a look of stubborn pride on his face. Jack smiled, “Ok, boys, just let me know when you’re ready.” 

Meanwhile, Jack moved the small table in the kitchen over, spread a big tarp down on the floor and covered it, the table and the couple of chairs with old newspapers. He set out a can of paint, a roller pan and some paintbrushes. Then he laid down several big pieces of butcher paper as well, saying to himself, “That should do it.” 

Next, he stripped off the work shirt he’d thrown on earlier, leaving only his singlet underneath and pulled on his own pair of overalls. He thought about it for a moment and then took off his shoes and socks as well. 

Just as he was about to go check on his nephews, he heard them shuffle up to the door and saw them peek in. “Unka Jack, we ready now,” they said in unison. “Can we come in?” “Why yes, boys, do come in and sit there and there,” Jack said, pointing to two places on the floor. Jack kneeled in front of them.

“Unka Jack, you look just like us!” they said, pointing to his overalls. They looked at each other and then back at Jack, who was thinking how much they really did all look alike. 

“Why yes, I suppose I do. Because this is what painters wear. And we’re going to do some painting today. What do you think of that?” “Yippee,” yelled Tommy, almost kicking over the can. Jimmy just bobbed his head and said, “What paint Unka Jack?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Well, boys, I was going to finish painting this wall,” he pointed to it. “So I thought you could be my special helpers and paint some of it too. Would you like that?” “Uh huh.” “Do you know how to paint?” “Uh-uh.” “Well, I’ll show you then and you can just do what I do ok?” “Uh huh.” “How hard could this be?” Jack thought.

“Now, to start, let’s pick up a paint brush.” Tommy and Jimmy both reached for the same brush and then started to struggle with it. “Boys!” Jack said, as he reached out to take the brush. “I meant that you each get to pick up one of your own. See here?” He pointed, “There are three brushes and three of us, so we each get a brush, ok?” “Uh huh.” Jack handed the brush to Tommy. But when Jimmy reached out to get his brush, Jack noticed that he had to grab it with both hands - his hands were too small to hold onto the handle. Jack grinned. 

Brush in hand, Jack said, “Ok boys, now watch what I do. First, you just dip your brush into the can of paint like this and then you move it up and down on the wall like this.” He demonstrated. “Understand?” They nodded. “Ready?” “Uh huh.” “Now you try it.” 

Jimmy managed to lift up his brush, but only got the tip of the brush into the paint can before he took his hands off, so it sank into the paint, up to the end. He stared at it, then looked at Jack and said, “wike this?” 

Tommy stuck his brush all the way into the can, nearly tipping it over when he pulled it out. As he quickly held up his dripping brush, he flicked paint spatters onto the wall and paint started to roll down his hand. “I did it Unka Jack, see?” With a slight smile, Jack said, “Yes, I see Tommy, but be careful ok?” “Un huh.” Then Jimmy reached into the can to get his brush out and coated his hands with paint in the process. Jack reached out to help him and said, “You be careful too, Jimmy.” Jimmy nodded. 

Then they both turned to the wall and started trying to “paint” like “Unka Jack” had shown them - getting more paint on their hands then on the wall. Keeping one eye on the boys, Jack quickly painted another coat on his cracked section and let them continue for a few minutes until they slowed down. Then he said, “That’s good, boys, that will about do it - you can stop now.” “We all done?” They turned towards him, watching closely as he placed the roller pan next to them. He nodded, “Go ahead and put your brushes into this pan and then pat your hands dry on the paper to get some of the paint off, ok?” “Un huh.” 

Jimmy simply dropped his brush into the pan, but Tommy slapped his brush down too fast, flicking more paint onto the wall - and a spot of paint onto Jack’s face! As he rubbed at it, they pointed and giggled, “You painted too Unka Jack!” They started to reach up to pat their own faces and Jack shook his head, pointed and said, “On the paper boys, not on your faces!” They stopped, looked at the paper and then both of them leaned over and started patting the paper in front of them, leaving small handprints all over it. 

Meanwhile, Jack quickly painted over their “brushwork,” then moved the paint can, brushes and pan away from them and quickly dried his own hands, leaving one handprint on the paper as he got up. 

Tommy and Jimmy started to giggle. Tommy said, “Look Unka Jack, you made handpwints.” They were holding their little hands next to his big handprint and comparing them. 

Jack knelt back down and pointed to their handprints. He said, “Yes, boys, everybody has different handprints, that’s how the police know their identity.” 

“Weally?” said a wide eyed Tommy. Jack grinned. “Time to change plans,” he thought. “Unka Jack,” said Jimmy, “what’s I-den-ty?”

“Identity is like a picture, Jimmy.” Jack outlined the handprints with his finger. “See how Tommy’s handprints all have the same bumps and lines?” “Uh huh.” “So you would know they were his if you saw them somewhere, wouldn’t you?” Jimmy looked confused for a moment, put his hand next to his brother’s print and then nodded, “Uh huh.” Tommy stuck his hand out to compare it to the handprint. 

Jack turned to Tommy and traced Jimmy’s handprint the same way. “And you’d know these are Jimmy’s handprints wouldn’t you, Tommy?” The boys looked closely at the handprints. Then they looked at Jack. “Diffwent than you, Unka Jack?” “That’s right boys.” Jack put his hand by the handprints for them to examine. 

“Do pweese paint evwbdy hands white?” Tommy said. The boys looked at Jack expectantly. “Well,” Jack cleared this throat, “the police use a special color, but sometimes they do practice with white paint.” 

“Would you like to make more handprints to practice?” “Uh huh,” Jimmy piped up, “We make handpwints - like pweesemen.” 

“Ok, but first, let’s get you cleaned up a bit.” He took them over to the sink and wiped their hands and faces with a wet cloth. 

Jack laid out a few more pieces of butcher paper and his nephews sat back down. He poured a small amount of paint into the pan and placed it before them, saying, “Don’t touch this until I tell you to, ok?” Heads nodded. 

Kneeling before his nephews, he said, “To make good handprints, you just need to put the palm of your hands into the paint and then put your hands onto the paper, like you just did.” Jack pointed to the previous handprints. 

“Unka Jack, what’s a pom?” Jack chuckled and pointed to the palm of his hand. “This is, Jimmy, it’s called the 'palm' of your hand and it’s what you paint to make handprints, because the top of your hand doesn’t have any little bumps and lines, see?” Jack flipped one of Jimmy’s hands over to see the difference. Tommy put his finger into his brother’s palm and they started to giggle. Jack grabbed hold of the paint pan. 

“You make handpwint, Unka Jack?” Jimmy said, “Wanna see you handpwints!” They were both smiling and pointing at the paper. So he pressed his palms into the paint pan until they were covered and leaned over and placed his handprints next to his nephew’s prints. When he pulled back they started giggling and pointing at the handprints. 

“Unka Jack, we bigger.” Jack looked at the handprints he had just made and realized that he had only pressed his palm into the paper, not his fingers. They were right, it did look like their hands were bigger!

“Ok, watch this then!” Jack grinned and tried again. This time, he got a full handprint right on top of his previous one. “You hand got big Unka Jack.” “Yes, boys, it did. You’re going to make very good policemen because you notice things like that.” They smiled and nodded.

Jack said, “Do you want to try another way?” “Uh huh.” “Right, then. This time, I’m going to paint your hands first and then you can press them onto the paper.” “My poms?” Jimmy said. Jack smiled, “That’s right, Jimmy, your palms – hold them out here.” Jack used the paintbrush to put some paint on Jimmy’s hands and then said, “Now, make a handprint on the paper.” He repeated it, “You too, Tommy, right there,” he pointed. As he watched, they both made perfect handprints. He said, “Very good boys, these are excellent handprints!” They giggled. 

They started to reach out and try to touch the wet paint, but Jack stopped them and said, “Why don’t you just watch them for a bit and see if they change as the paint dries. That’s how policemen do it!” They nodded. “Meanwhile, you can wipe the paint off your hands while you watch. Here’s a towel for each of you.” Jack noticed that they were carefully wiping their hands and not touching the paint. They seemed mesmerized by how the paint left a different kind of print as it dried. 

Jack went about getting all the paint off his hands too. He was very glad that the whitewash came clean in water so easily, instead of having to use turpentine. When done, he went and knelt on the paper. He took a pencil and wrote the date and their names by their handprints. 

“Well, boys, what did you discover as you watched these prints dry?” Jack asked. Tommy said, “We know what look for now.” Jack looked at them in amazement. This was a concept he would not have expected them to understand at their age. He smiled, he really did appreciate how these two little boys worked things out. 

But he had been that way too. Always inquisitive and sharp and asking questions and off exploring. They did take after him that was for sure! And he wanted to make sure they were enriched by what they did when they were with him. 

“Do you want to make some more handprints?” Jack asked. “Uh huh,” they nodded. “Make handpwints of that wady? Jimmy asked, pointing. 

“WHAT LADY?” Jack said, more sharply than he wanted. A sudden horrifying feeling of having forgotten something important came over him. “Over there, Unka Jack. She look in window. Is she pweeseman too?” And then it clicked in. “Ah, no boys, she isn’t.”

He had asked Phryne to step out with him today and have some lunch. With the sudden babysitting duties, he had completely forgotten and hadn’t called her. He was definitely going to owe her for this! 

“Well, Jack,” he thought, “You can’t meet her at the door like this.” He threw his work shirt on over the overalls and tried to button it up, but could only manage a few buttons over the bulky fabric. “It will have to do,” he said softly, as he walked to the door. He ran his fingers through his hair and realized that he was still barefoot - he could only hope that she wasn’t offended.

“Boys!” he called out, “Make sure you have clean hands before you meet this nice lady.”

He heard the doorknocker and took a deep breath as he opened it. There, Phryne stood in black pants and a white shirt, wearing a stunning black hat with white feathers -- thankfully, no furs or fancy coats today. Even in this simple attire though, she was astoundingly beautiful. He stood there staring at her for a moment. 

“Hello, Jack!” She said in her usual saucy way, “You’re staring! Do I have paint on my face or something?” She touched the side of her face, just where he still had a small smear. Completely missing it, he said, “Oh no, Phryne. You’re just a feast for the eyes.” “Now what had made him say that?” he thought. Her eyes widened in amusement. 

“Why thank you, Jack,” she smiled and gave him the once over. “You’re not dressed!” She said with a smirk, noticing that his normally well-groomed hair was in disarray and that he was barefoot. “In fact, you’re barely dressed at all, did you forget our plans?” 

Jack took another deep breath, “Phryne, look, I have to confess that I did. My sister had an emergency and I got recruited into babysitting earlier. I apologize, but yes, I did completely forget and also to call you. I’m very sorry. I will explain it all later.”

“Babysit, Jack? Does you sister have a baby now?” “Oh, no, it’s my two nephews.” Jack heard the sounds of running feet. “And I can hear them coming now, so it looks as though you’ll get an introduction.”

Phryne almost did a double take at the similarity between Jack and the boys standing near him. “And who do we have here?” She said sweetly. 

“These fine lads are my nephews, Miss Fisher. Thomas here is 5.” “And a hawf!” Tommy blurted out. “Don’t interrupt, Tommy!” Jack said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Sowwy, Unka Jack.” “And James here, just turned 4, didn’t you Jimmy?” “Uh Huh,” he said bashfully. 

“Boys, may I introduce you to The Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher. This lady is a real Lady, just like in your story about King Arthur. She’s even related to the King of England!” Tommy looked up at Phryne, with wide eyes and said, “In Cammewot?” Jack coughed, Phryne smiled, “No Master Thomas, not King Arthur. The king who rules England now -- King George.” “Weally?” “Yes, really!” Phryne said gently. 

Still awed, Tommy elbowed Jimmy, as he tended to do, and said, “She cawed me Master Thomas, Jimmy! And she’s a weal wady too!” Jimmy just stared at Phryne. “You’re pwety!” he said. “Why thank you, Master James,” Phryne said, as she dropped a slight curtsey. She looked at Jack and grinned. “An inherited trait, Jack?” She said sotto voce.

Jack chuckled, “Now show your manners boys and please welcome our guest.” Tommy smiled and prodded Jimmy and they both stepped in front of Phryne and bowed, each tucking a little hand behind their backs. Jack had to turn away to keep from laughing. Tommy spoke up and said, “That’s what Miss Awbwite told us Knights do with Wady’s.” 

“And that was nicely done too, my young squires. Do you want to be Knights?” “Naaw, we wants to be pweesmen like Unka Jack,” they said together. 

“Well, Master Thomas and Master James,” Phryne said, nodding at each of them in turn, “I‘m sure that will make your uncle very proud of you.” 

Jimmy stubbed his toe into the floor and said, blushingly, “You can caw us Tommy and Jimmy if you want, evwyone else does.” “Why thank you, Tommy and you too, Jimmy,” she said. Phryne looked back at Jack, who just grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

“And now that we’ve been properly introduced, you two young gentlemen have my permission to call me Miss Phryne.” Both heads popped up and looked at her in amazement. Jack said, “And what do you say to that?” They both gave her a huge smile and said together, “Tank you Miss Fwiney!”

“Now boys, what was it I interrupted?” “Come see! Come see!” they yelled as they ran off down the hall. Jack said, “Yes, come see, perhaps YOU can show me what to do next?” “Me, Jack? What would make you think that?” “Just a hunch, Miss Fisher!” 

“Well,” Phryne said, “Since you’re not dressed for lunch and you do seem to be painting something, I suppose I’ll just have to join you.” 

“But you’ll get paint on your clothes Phryne, it’s not clean in there.” “Well, Jack, I suppose, since you have overalls on, you’ll just have to loan me the shirt off your back for protection!”

Phryne’s eyes crackled with mischief as she reached out and deftly undid the few buttons of Jack’s shirt. Before he knew it, she had taken it from him and put it on herself. “There, a perfect cover up! Thank you Jack!” 

“How does she do that?” Jack thought. 

When they entered the kitchen, the boys were back to making handprints on the paper. Jack scolded lightly, “I thought I told you not to touch that pan!” They looked up guiltily and said, “Sowwy, Unka Jack.” They held their hands up in front of them, miraculously not all covered in paint. “Seems like they figured out how to make handprints after all,” Jack thought. 

As they watched, Jack removed the newspaper from one of the chairs and said, “Please have a seat if you dare, Miss Fisher.” 

She sat delicately at the table leaning over to look at the handprints on the paper. The boys were entranced – he knew the feeling. “Miss Fwiney, you could make handpwints too - it would be awight with us. Unka Jack?” Phryne looked up at him, and he said, ”Well of course she can make handprints boys, if she wants to, but we don’t want to get her all dirty now, do we?” 

“I’ll tell you what boys, I’ll make a handprint up here and then maybe you can show me how you make handprints. Would you like that?” “Uh huh!” they nodded up and down. “Miss Fisher?” “Jack?” “Alright, but first, may I get you a drink?” Jack winked, “Lemonade? Tea perhaps?” “Lemonade would be lovely, Jack, thank you.” Jack poured her a glass, set it on the table and cleared away the paper full of handprints. He put the paper with his own handprint on the table as he placed several fresh pieces of butcher paper down in front of the boys. 

Meanwhile, she leaned over and took a piece of the paper and lightly painted her palms. Then she made a neat handprint and wiped off her hands. “Can we see your handprint, Miss Fwiney?” “Just a moment boys,” she said. “Could you hand me those scissors please, Jack?” She cut her now dry handprints out, as well as the ones Jack had left on the table. Then she turned to Jack’s nephews, “I hear that you boys want to become policemen? Let’s see how good you are. Close your eyes.” Phryne arranged several sets of prints on the edge of the table, hers among them, her hands being small enough to not be too obvious. 

“Ok. Now, let’s see if you can tell which ones are mine?” Jack smiled and lifted his nephews up one by one so they could see onto the table. Then they stood together at the edge and considered it for a minute before pointing to their own handprints. “Those us,” they said with a smile. Then, after a poke from Tommy, Jimmy pointed towards where Phryne’s handprints were on the table and said, “That you, Miss Fwiney?” Phryne smiled and nodded and said to him, “Why yes it is, Jimmy.” “Aww,” Jimmy blushed. “And well done boys. You’ll make very fine policemen.” 

Jack was leaning against the wall, smiling, listening to the tenderness in Phryne’s voice. She looked at him for a moment and he saw it in her face as well. She smiled. And when they looked back at the boys, they were looking at them and smiling, too. Apparently handprints weren’t the only thing they could detect! 

“There you are, lads. Good job!” Jack said. He picked up one of the cut out handprints and said, “You know boys, maybe you could give these to your Mommy for Christmas, she might like to see your handprints too!”

“Good idea, Jack. Maybe we could make them into Christmas cards?” 

“Why yes, Miss Fisher, I believe we could do that – what do you think boys?” “Uh huh” they nodded enthusiastically. 

“Right then,” let’s make some more really special handprints for you to give to Grandma and Grandpa too. Carefully now!” Jack warned. “And Miss Fwiney too?” Jimmy said bashfully. “Yes, Jimmy, you can make one for Miss Phryne too.” 

Tommy said, “Make one too, Unka Jack, so Miss Fwiney can have your hands?” Phryne looked at Jack and would swear she saw him blush.

For the next while, they sat about making more handprints. Jack carefully guiding the boys to place their hands onto the butcher paper and the boys, much more controlled in their efforts. Jack made a couple of prints of his own and Phryne watched from the table and commented now and then about how good they were. Jack shot her a look and Phryne just laughed, they all did! Yes, this was definitely fun! 

When they had made several sets of prints, the boys sat back, yawning and wiped off their hands. Jack picked up the butcher paper and waved it around to dry, putting it up on the counter. He gathered up the paint and supplies and put them out of harms way. Then he said, “Ok, boys, let’s get you cleaned up so your Mommy can still recognize you!” Jack picked them up, one under each arm and trotted them down the hall to the bathroom tub. Phryne could hear their laughter in the hall. 

She picked up a cutout of Jack’s hands and a cutout of the small handprint she had made earlier and turned it over, planting a kiss on it to leave the print of her lipstick. Then she folded them into her handkerchief and tucked them into her purse with a soft smile. 

When the boys got back with Jack, Phryne was standing at the kitchen counter, cutting the remaining butcher paper into strips. She handed a piece to Jack that had the handprints on them and said brightly, “Here you go, Jack, maybe you could cut out their prints for me and I’ll glue them onto this paper to make cards. Have any glue?” 

“Since when have you been so crafty, Miss Fisher,” Jack winked at her and the boys giggled. “Oops,” thought Jack, “watch it!” He produced a container of glue and even a length of ribbon and gave it to Phryne saying, “So you can tie them up with a bow.” Phryne gave Jack a look of pure mischief and said, “I’ll do my best to make it memorable.” Jack grinned. 

The boys were obviously getting tired, so Jack said, “Why don’t you boys lie down and have a little nap while we finish up.” “Uh huh.” Sleepy heads nodded and they both flopped down like puppies and curled up right where they were. Jack and Phryne both smiled. They sat down at the table. Jack cut out the remaining handprints and handed them to Phryne, who pasted them onto makeshift cards, tied at the top with a little bow.

“Think they’ll remember this, Jack,” she said softly. “I expect they will M’lady,” he grinned, “I know I won’t forget.” The moment hung between them, soft and tender, filled with promises not yet realized. 

Just then, Tommy hiccuped and the moment was broken. Jack went over and patted him on the back and Jimmy started patting him too, still looking sleepy. Just as Tommy stopped hiccuping, the telephone rang. Jack’s sister was calling to say that the crisis had been averted and the damage repaired.

“…They’re fine. Yes, I’ll bring the boys over straight away,” Phryne heard Jack say. 

Having regained his shirt, but not seeing the need to put it back on, Jack walked Phryne to the front door to see her off. “Phryne, I need to take them back home and get cleaned up here, but may I see you later?” “Certainly, Jack,” she smiled, “as they say, your place or mine?” 

“I think I’ve had enough of my place today, what if I stop by your house when I get done here? Would you like me to escort you to dinner, seeing as how we didn’t get to have our lunch?” 

“Actually, Jack, why don’t you come over to dinner? I’ll have Mr. Butler make your favorite – I think you deserve it!” “If you’re sure it’s no trouble Phryne?” “Trouble, Jack?” she paused, “I wouldn’t call it trouble.” Jack lowered his head and gave her that upwards look and nodded. 

She flashed her cheeky grin and then turned to the boys. Finally awake, they had come out to the door to see her off. She stuck out her hand to shake their little ones in turn and said quite formally, “Master Thomas, Master James, it has been my distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance.” They nodded, for once, speechless. Jack was too. “Farewell boys,” she waved, as she went out to her car. 

The next hour or so was tied up getting his nephews back to his sister’s, hearing the story of how the flood was contained and fending off inquiry’s about the mysterious “Lady” that visited. “Yes, a ‘Lady’ he knew did drop by… No, he didn’t want to stay for dinner… Yes, he’d be in touch soon…” 

Jack kept thinking about Phryne’s tenderness with his nephews, smiling at how awe struck they were around her, “She does seem to have that effect on men, young and old,” he thought. He was embarrassed that he had forgotten their “date” and was touched that she felt it worth her while to spend time with him and his nephews. She seemed to be enjoying herself too - at least he hoped she did. He felt the day had brought them closer somehow. He hoped she was still in a soft mood when he saw her tonight. He would enjoy simply being around her and feeling soothed by her presence. 

When Phryne herself opened the front door, Jack gave her a single rose. She sniffed into it, stroked the petals and looked up at him softly, “Thank you Jack, this is lovely. What’s the occasion?” “It matches the color of your lipstick, Phryne, I couldn’t resist.” He smiled at his outrageousness and she caught her breath. 

Later, after a delicious dinner and a retelling of what had occurred earlier in the day, Phryne poured Jack a drink in the parlor and they sat on the Duvet together. Phryne tucked into her usual corner and without thinking, reached out and stroked a piece of Jack’s hair back off his forehead.

“You look a bit worn out, Jack. Were the boys too much for you today?” Jack found himself leaning into her hand slightly. “I suppose I am actually, while I love spending time with them, they are a handful and I didn’t exactly expect it today. They certainly were taken with you though, especially little Jimmy.” Jack turned and gave Phryne warm smile. “Thank you for sharing yourself with us.” 

Phryne said softly, “It’s nice to see this part of you, Jack.” She reached out again and stroked his hair back. “Mmmm, that feels nice,” Jack murmured. “If you lean back a bit Jack and loosen your tie, I could perhaps rub a few knots out of your neck.” Jack turned and looked at her questioningly. Phryne shrugged and said, “Just being helpful Jack! Come on, turn around.”

Jack took off his jacket and turned so that his back was leaning closer to Phryne, but so he could still stay upright with the leverage of his arm on the back of the couch. She warmed her hands and reached up to his neck and applied some pressure, rubbing down and back up, pressing all the small, sore points. She asked him, “Does that help?” “Ah yes, Phryne, it feels very soothing.” “Mind if I do a bit more?” He tensed and she said smoothly, “Oh relax, Jack, I’m not trying to seduce you, just helping you to unwind.” 

She smoothed over his shoulders and down his upper back, then back up his neck and into the base of his hair, pushing her fingertips into his scalp and massaging it too, she settled back at the base of his neck and kept her hands there for a moment longer. Then she said softly, “You can ease back up now.” Jack jumped a bit at her voice as he had started to drift off. Much to his chagrin, he discovered that he had also leaned back further than he thought, almost lying down in Phryne’s lap!

As he got up, he started to apologize and she put her finger on his lips. “No Jack, no apology, I’m happy that you trusted me enough to let me relax you.” She stroked the side of his hair back one more time and got up to get his jacket, slipping her gift to him inside. She helped him into it and reached up to adjust his tie. He turned into her, moving closer than normal and said gently, “Your tenderness has touched me in more ways than one today, Phryne, and, well, thank you!” “Yes, Jack, you have touched me too.” Their gaze held - thoughts vanished as they looked into each other. In many ways it felt more intimate than if they had been physical. 

The moment changed when they heard movement in the entryway and Mr. Butler clearing his throat before he opened the parlor doors. Jack said softly, “I really must be going Phryne. Thank you again for a lovely evening and a fun day. I enjoyed having you there to share it with me.” “It really was a pleasure Jack and I’ll remember it too!” She smiled. 

Mr. Butler handed Jack his coat and hat and Jack reached out and shook Mr. Butlers hand. “And thank you for another delicious dinner, Mr. Butler, I hope to see you soon. Good Night.”

After Jack got home and was undressing, he found a handkerchief tucked into his jacket pocket. He laid it on his dresser and finished getting ready for bed. But he kept looking at it. It wasn’t his handkerchief, was it Phryne’s?

It reminded of the medieval days when knights were bestowed a kerchief “favor” from their lady, for good luck and promises. He thought of his nephews bowing like Knights before a Lady and smiled. 

He went over and picked up the handkerchief and realized that it contained the handprint Phryne had made. He turned it over and found her lipstick kiss on the back. She had written, “To honor… Happy Christmas, Jack” and dated it in the corner. 

Jack sat down on the bed and pressed his hand onto Phryne’s print. Then he brought Phryne’s handprint up to his cheek like an embrace. He held it there for some time, then turned it over and brought her lip print up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. 

Tomorrow, he would put it on his dresser next to the photo taken of them in costume at the circus last month. But tonight, he wanted it near him. 

As he climbed into bed and settled down to sleep, he kissed the palm print and laid it on the bedside table, propped against the lamp so he could look at it. “Goodnight, Phryne,” he said. Somewhere through the ethers of drowsing into sleep, he thought he heard, “Goodnight, Jack!”


End file.
